Why?
by HollyPotter28
Summary: Grief changes people. Written for the Panic! At the Disco lyrics competition.


**Why?**

_Why would you bring me in If you knew what you'd become?_

_So curse everyone and everything,_

_Even the sun._

* * *

"Stop, stop!" shouted Godric Gryffindor, brandishing his wand. He was pointing it straight at a pale, pointed face whose eyes were a mad red and glistening with tears. The mad eyes drifted down to his hand that was clenched around a stick of ebony wood.

"Stop..." Godric repeated quietly.

"Why?" asked the man, barely in a whisper,

"_This _won't bring her back, Salazar." he answered, waving his arms to the room that they were in.

It looked as if a large mountain troll had been trampling in there; there was various books strewn across the cracked floor, many of their pages torn and illegible. The windows were smashed, bookcases and desks overturned onto the floor and dust from centuries past was flying around in the air.

"I know, Godric." Salazar answered quietly after some moments of thinking.

"Then why?"

"Why what? Why anything? Why?" he chanted back aimlessly; and he started to tread through the room, crunching and cracking on bits of paper and debris.

"Why did you bring me here?" Godric asked towards the dusty hair in the back of Salazar's head, "You know what you've become," continued Godric after he didn't respond.

The dusty head snapped up and set its carmine eyes on his, "Become what exactly?" he enquired almost accusingly, and Godric moved awkwardly as his great mind searched for an answer.

"Well..." he started thoughtfully, but words failed him.

"Go on," stated Salazar, daring him to continue.

"Well," he started again, choosing his words carefully. "You are a mess."

Salazar looked at his dust-covered foot. He was standing on a small, old painting of Rowena Ravenclaw. Her dark hair fell easily to her shoulders, curling upwards at the ends; her sombre navy eyes giving a small insight into her intelligent mind within, staring sweetly up at Salazar.

"She wouldn't be proud." Said Godric quietly. He knew how to get into Salazar's head; he had done it enough times before.

A single tear dripped onto the painting, and Salazar bowed his head.

"I know." He answered in barely a whisper.

"As before, why did you bring me here?" Godric sat down on a battered armchair; one of the arms were missing but it still kept its luxurious feel.

Salazar looked up and spoke in a hazed and croaked voice, "Why not? She was as much my friend as she was yours."

Godric sighed; he hadn't seen Salazar for at least four years, until suddenly the night before an ivory owl had attacked him, bringing with it a letter:

Godric,

Rowena is dead: come immediately.

Salazar Slytherin

That was all it had said, and Godric had only come to assure that Salazar didn't destroy their castle, which he would have if Godric hadn't intervened not long before that very moment.

"She's gone, you, well, I thought you needed to know."

"Salazar..." but Godric knew it was no use, since when had Salazar been one to reason with?

The two stood there in silence for a few minutes. No clock was ticking as Salazar had destroyed its gears, not that either of them believed in time anyway.

The door suddenly burst open, making the two men jump.

A ragged Helga Hufflepuff entered, her hair askew under her hat and her robes torn and muddy.

"I came as soon as I could." she looked round at the wreck that used to be the staff room; she looked at Salazar and then Godric. She needed no explanation; she understood.

"Helga too?" Godric quietly asked Salazar, who swiftly nodded, "Does Helena know?"

"I think Rowena sent the Baron out to look for her. Apparently she's in Albania."

Helena scoffed.

"Because that will end well." she said, remembering the last time the Baron encountered Helena. Godric sighed, remembering too. He wrapped his dusty cloak closer to his body, trying to shut out the mountain wind that came in through a crack in a smashed window.

The three stood in silence for a while, each stuck in their memories. The cruel wind howled and the castle creaked, and again the broken clock didn't tick though it didn't matter, time was just a sad theory.

* * *

**A/N: The Founders are defiantly my favourite era to write This was written for FlamingMooseNinjasOfEpicness 's 'Panic! at the Disco lyrics competition' I hope you liked it! Tell me what you think? I accept anonymous reviews ^-^**

**Always,**

**Holly xx**


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